Stubborn: A RoyEd Holiday
by Marka.Carbondale
Summary: RoyEd He longed for Edward to sit in his lap, so that Roy could wrap his arms around him and share their warmth.


**Disclaimer: Not ever for Christmas, do I receive the rights to Fullmetal Alchemist.**

**Stubborn**

**—xx—**

**Roy Mustang watched the snowflakes flutter down gracefully** letting out a slow, sad breath of air, creating a patch of condensation on the window. He _hated_ this time of year. It was cold, and the Flame Alchemist was not exactly partial to lack of heat. He rubbed his forefinger and thumb together, letting the rough fabric of his pryotex gloves scratch together, contemplating lighting another fireplace, but not doing so on account of the laziness the icy weather brought.

The cold made him realize how alone he was this holiday. He and Edward had been on and off for the last two weeks, and they were currently off at that moment. Edward had been complaining that Roy was too engulfed in his work, and not focused enough on the holidays. Truthfully enough, Roy had turned down Edward on nearly every occasion—ice skating, sugar cookie making, trimming the tree—because of work. However, it wasn't Roy's fault that the paperwork from the year was piled up and he had to finish it before New Year's. Okay… maybe it was, but most importantly, he _did_ have to finish it, and that was the bottom line.

He longed for Edward to sit in his lap, so that Roy could wrap his arms around him and share their warmth. They could share the gourmet hot chocolate his mother sent him for Christmas under his cashmere blanket and watch the snow fall together. Then, it would be more agreeable. Roy leaned his head back against the chair and let out another sad sigh. It was going to be a long, sad holiday from the way things were going.

He felt sleep begin to envelop him, and almost slipped off, but was jolted up at the sharp knocking at the door. Growling and sputtering swears, he removed himself from the comfort of his chair and made his way to the foyer.

He threw the door open, and a gust of wind blew a good amount of snow against the raven-haired colonel. He scowled deeply, wiped the snow from his eyes, and looked down the unfortunate visitor. If it was carolers… they were _in_ for it…

It wasn't carolers. It wasn't a religious person on a bike who was going to give him a bible, it wasn't a door-to-door salesman.

It was one, scowling, angry, pouting, soaked and _frozen_ blonde alchemist. Edward's arms were crossed, his eyes staring up at the light that flooded Roy's front stoop with a golden glow, and his teeth were chattering.

Even with the chill of snow covering a good part of his shoulders and chest, Roy melted. Edward didn't know it, but the sight of him so utterly _helpless_ was so absolutely adorable that there was little he could do.

"What are you doing here, Ed?" Roy questioned, a raised eyebrow, and a hint of remorse mixed in his voice.

Still not making eye contact, Edward mumbled something with his brother's name in it, to which Roy responded, "What?"

"Al and Winry… they kicked me out…" he waved a hand at a red duffle bag at his feet. "They said we were being ridiculous… and that they were tired of hearing me bitch about you."

"So… you're coming in?"

**—xx—**

**The next twenty minutes were filled with the two** simply staring each other down. Roy desperately wanted to apologize—deep down—but his pride wouldn't allow it. Even so, he had no idea to even start an apology. Edward's eyes darted all over the room—first they were fixated on Roy, as they usually were, then they met with his eyes; then, they moved to the now-lit fireplace, and to the ground in front of him. He, too, wanted to apologize. He had realized earlier that day that, even though it was his own fault, Roy couldn't exactly just skip work to decorate his apartment—which was still not done, a week before Christmas. Roy's lap looked enticing, and abstaining for five days had not been easy.

But, he had no idea what to say. It wasn't so often that Edward admitted to himself that he was wrong, so he had never been in this situation. His two deadliest sins were battling each other—lust and pride—and at this point, he was unsure as to which would win.

Finally, one of them spoke—Roy offered, "Would you, uh, like something?"

Smooth.

"Uh, sure," _Your fucking body, _"what have you got?"

_Blue balls,_ "Some hot chocolate Mother sent me. Want some?"

"That'd be good," _I'd prefer _you_, in bed, _now.

"Good," Roy finally smiled, for the first time that night. "I'll go prepare some."

"Wait… you will?" _I've known you long __enough;__ I know you can't cook for shit. "_Maybe I should do it for you…"

"It's merely hot chocolate mix, Ed, I'm capable of preparing it on my own," _but not capable of doing much else without you._

"Maybe I should monitor you," _I don't want to be left in here without you for even a second._

"If you wish, though I assure you I'll be fine," _Good, because it's been so long since I've been without you, that I don't want you out of my sight_.

Edward got up with Roy and both made their way into the lavish Mustang kitchen. It was a marvel that Roy owned so many appliances. All the stainless steel and mixers had always baffled the Fullmetal, but he had never bothered to ask. Even now, he thought, _they got plenty of use… while _I _was here. Obviously they haven't been touched since, though_. He noted—wiping of a good amount of dust off the cream-coloured processor.

He took a seat at the island counter and watched the Flame carefully poor hot water into each of the glasses, and then mixed them swiftly. He removed a can of whipped cream from the refrigerator and moved to top them both off, but not before letting out a dry laugh. Once Edward saw the can, he felt a shiver run down his spine, and spat out a nervous chuckle, as well.

It was the same can of cream from earlier that week—when Edward stayed the night—that had been involved in their various bedroom activities. The two made eye contact, and for a moment, it almost seemed like reconciliation was in sight. Unfortunately, pride took over, and the two looked away—Roy going back to work on the steaming drinks, Edward blushing profusely on the opposite end of the kitchen.

The mug of hot chocolate was pushed across the table towards Ed, accompanied by a statement from Roy. "Follow me outside."

Ed's eyes shifted from the mug to the colonel's eyes at least six times before he finally demanded, "Why the hell should I?"

"Just do it."

And with that Roy strolled out the back door, soon followed by a steaming blonde—both with drinks in hand.

**—xx—**

**Roy was shivering as the fat snowflakes drifted onto various parts of his body**—Ed took note of this and promptly questioned, "What the hell are we doing out here? You fucking _hate_ the snow!"

"Yeah… that's true," the (snuffed) Flame mouthed slowly between chattering teeth and various sips of his hot drink. "But," he added, turning to the tiny blonde with a smirk, "I know _you_ don't. You love the snow."

Ed turned bright pink. "So, what does that have to do with anything?"

"I don't know…" Roy admitted.

This caused another silence between the two. The only sounds heard were the light crunch of snow as Edward shifted weight between legs and the sipping from the two drinks.

"What are we doing, Edward?" Roy asked.

"Standing in the snow?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, what are we doing to each other? Why are we trying to make this work so hard? Is it because we're scared to be alone? Is it because we want each other so badly? If that's the reason, then why don't we just fix it?" Roy let out a puff of visible air, and then took the last sip of his drink.

"Because, we can't be fixed," Edward answered, "what we've created, this relationship or whatever, it's not something that can be fixed. It's a living, breathing thing. It had needs and they're not being fulfilled."

"So, we're just going to give up on it? That doesn't seem very fair."

"I know," Edward replied meekly, "after all, I do… _care_ about you, I guess."

Roy chuckled softly, "you guess? Well that's convincing enough for me, I suppose." He placed the mug on the ground and closed in on the flushed alchemist. "I care about you, too, Edward. A lot."

And then Edward kissed him. It was soft and warm and needy and loving and full of every apology that both of them needed. The cold air was forgotten as the two's lips merged and they joined in an embrace. Suddenly, they were no longer two people, but a single entity.

Roy pulled away first, staring into Edward's glistening golden eyes. "I… I _missed_ you, Ed." His pale face gained a bit of colour as his cheeks flushed. To break embarrassing eye contact, he closed the younger in an embrace, holding him there for a long while, as he didn't want to let go.

It was then, that even with the cold, Roy Mustang decided that this holiday wouldn't be so awful, after all.

**—xx—**

**A/N**Ugh. Avert thy eyes. This is not good, at all… I wanted to start off with something of this nature, _and _I wanted to finish a Christmas something so I could move on to my next idea.

So… if you didn't like this one, please don't give up hope. I assure you that the next one should be at least a little bit better…

**maria**


End file.
